This Is Who We Are, This Is What We Do
by CrimzonChyld
Summary: Kinda angsty but kinda schmoopy. Established relationship or if you'd rather established relationship with the history of the established relationship. Whatever time frame you'd like after they've gone to heaven in 5. If you don't like Wincest, you won't like this, look elsewhere. Rating for language and "adult" situations.


**I'm not really sure if any of this really makes sense but it got into my head and I had to type it. I'm not sure if it came out right but here it is. It's a lot shorter then my chapters in my on going fic. Be kind in your reviews please!**

**I do not own nor am I affiliated with Supernatural, WB, CW, Kripke Enterprises, actors, or other affiliates there of. No profit is being made from this.**

* * *

Dean Winchester does not cuddle.

He has also never told Sam that he loves him.

Sam doesn't mind, most of the time.

He doesn't mind because he has more than he ever thought he would with Dean. Also because he's patient. It's a patience he hasn't always had and is sometimes hard to keep but he knows when to push and how hard.

It was difficult in the beginning and so very, very complicated as having an homosexual, incestuous relationship with one's brother (especially when you are both very much heterosexual) tends to be.

It was a year, one long year that taught Sam patience and when to push and when not to. That year, most conversations that weren't about a job they were on turned into arguments which turned into shouting matching, that turned into "physical altercations" that somehow, someway ended in sex. Dirty, rough, oh so wrong and incredibly fantastic sex. They fought a lot that year. Sometimes Dean started it, sometimes Sam started it but it usually ended the same.

Dean is, and always has been, BFFs with denial. Even though Sam knew that, he thought that maybe this was a little too big, too important to ignore. Okay, maybe the first time he could understand, tempers and tensions rose, maybe a little alcohol was involved and perhaps Dean hadn't gotten laid in a while. The next morning things were silent and awkward. No freakout, no babbling about how it would never, ever happen again, just silence and Sam sitting so far across from Dean while they were driving that he might as well have been sitting in the back seat.

They should have been freaking out but Sam saw denial sitting in Dean's lap, whispering evil little lies to his brother and for the moment, Sam needed to think because that's what Sam did. To analyze that night, go over and over the details in his own head, to examine the where for all and why. Truthfully, though? He didn't really care, not anymore. He didn't think to terribly long or hard about it because he was tired of analyzing anything that had to do with his relationship with Dean. They'd both been to hell (and heaven) and back and they were both fucked up and unhealthily co-dependent messes. In the end, it didn't matter. It had felt good and only seemed wrong on an intellectual level.

It was one of the few times in Sam's life that he just said "fuck it" and let it be.

Then it happened again.

And again.

Then one more time.

And again after that.

At some point Dean no longer had denial in his lap but was just surfing the goddamn waves.

Gradually, over time, there was less fighting and more sex.

That's when Sam was starting to get confused. Sam was never much for casual sex, he'd had it, it was fine but ever so much better when it was with some one he cared about. Sam already loved Dean before, he was Dean, his guardian, his best friend, his companion, his annoying, pain in the ass big brother. Take the love for his brother, put it with the fact that Sam was openly affectionate and tended to wear his heart on his sleeve (not as much as he used to but still), add in Dean who might as well be on a cruise ship sailing down DE-nial in Egypt, it's one hell of a cluster fuck.

Sam couldn't understand why Dean didn't seem to want anything to do with him after sex. Not just a no cuddling rule, there was a no touching, no sleeping in the same bed, no looking at him, no coming near him at all rule. God forbid Sam break it, every time he tried (not that it was always on purpose mind you, Sam couldn't help himself, he liked to touch) there was a violent rebuff that followed.

Sam couldn't understand how they could fuck each others brains out one night and the next night Dean would hook up with some slutty chick at a bar.

It fucking hurt.

In all this time, when the fighting slowed and the sex increased Sam had done something incredibly stupid. He'd gone from loving his brother to being in love the with the goddamn son of a bitch.  
He waited, he waited months to see if Dean would finally just "get it" and of course he didn't. When Sam tried to talk about it, Dean would either walk out on him or ignore him.

Oddly enough, Sam's first act of pushing was to pull away. Sam didn't touch Dean for a week. Expectantly, Dean came to him instead, covering Sam's body with his own, his hands sliding under Sam's shirt, his tongue lapping at Sam's neck. Sam wanted it, wanted it so bad he could practically taste the salt on Dean's skin already.

Instead, Sam grabbed Dean's hands and moved his head away from Dean's seeking mouth.

"Don't."

It was one softly spoken word and Dean froze and his eyes widened as though it had been screamed. He looked scared, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't. Well really, in most circumstances, you shouldn't be trying to get into your little brother's pants.

Sam got Dean off of him and stared at the dirty motel carpet as he he spoke, "I can't do this anymore, Dean. We can't just keep fucking like this while you act like nothing has happened. I was okay with it when it started, it was just sex then but Dean, it's not just sex anymore, not for me. It either needs to end or it doesn't. Either way, I need to talk about it, _we_ need to talk about it."

After a long silence, Dean left. Sam's heart broke a little and he curled up on the bed feeling sad and empty and then a little pissed because Dean was just running away from this and Sam didn't even know if he'd be back.

Dean came back, smelling of sex and booze and cheap perfume and Sam's anger had double in Dean's absence and he got off his bed and slammed Dean up against the nearest wall, tearing at his clothes and swearing and babbling. Even though he said he couldn't anymore, Sam especially couldn't let Dean get away with fucking a random slut just because he wouldn't talk to Sam about this "thing" between them. Dean didn't even put up a token of protest as Sam shoved him onto the bed. Not until Sam didn't bother turning him over onto his stomach.

A year of sex and they never faced each other and Dean struggled to roll over, to hide himself away from Sam's eyes but Sam pinned him to the mattress and fucked him slow. Sam pushed Dean harder then by saying all the things he needed to say, all the things Dean wouldn't let him say ever. How much it hurt when Dean would be with some one else, when Dean wouldn't let Sam touch him, not even to comfort. Sam told him he was fucking gorgeous and that he loved Dean so much it scared him. Finally the only thing Sam could say was "mine" over and over.

Dean kissed him then and answered with a whispered, "Yours."

Afterwards, Dean didn't push him away. They didn't cuddle because Dean didn't do that but that didn't stop Sam from pressing as close to his brother as possible.

They never did talk about it because Winchesters don't do that, no matter how much Sam tries to break the rules. Still, things are better. They sleep in the same bed and Dean has stopped trying to pretend that it isn't happening. He also stopped screwing slutty bar chicks. Actually he's pretty much stopped screwing any type of chick anywhere. Dean still flirts because it's what he does and probably because he kind of likes it when Sam slams up against a motel wall afterwards, not that he'll admit it. They don't talk about what they are but they don't ignore what they do outside of the bedroom anymore either.

Dean still doesn't cuddle and still doesn't tell Sam that he loves him, no matter how many times Sam says it to him.

Because denial is still his BFF and it makes him comfortable.

But then, when they go to bed and Dean thinks Sam is asleep Dean wraps himself around Sam. Even goes so far as to manipulate one of Sam's arms so it drapes over himself. Dean holds Sam close and whispers things to him that make it difficult for Sam to feign sleep because his throat is so tight he can barely breathe. Whispers all his fears and all his desires and all his sadness and all his insecurities to Sam and all the things he thinks that Sam wouldn't understand.

Sam does though, he's gotten better at understanding, he understands Deans always afraid of losing Sam. Not so much that he'll be killed, though that's still a huge fear, more like Sam will walk away, like's he has in the past. Dean can't stand the thought that Sam might decide on trying to have his normal life and leave Dean behind because normal doesn't include fucking your brother. Dean can't let Sam go now, not after all this, not after what they have now.

Sam gets it because he's always afraid of losing Dean because he's had to have Dean die in his arms over and over and Sam doesn't think he could take it if it happened again.

Dean always ends with , "Love you, Sammy."

Sam has to fight hard not to say it back because Dean's not ready for that, not ready to know that Sam hears him.

Not yet.

Because Dean is Dean.

And that's okay with Sam.

Because Sam is Sam.

Sam is patient. He knows a time will come when Dean will be ready to be pushed. A night when all he'll have to do is tighten his hold on Dean so he'll know that Sam is awake and can hear him.

Just a gentle nudge

You can't push too hard when you don't know where the edge of the cliff is.

Then again, Sam is Sam . . . he has a very tight grip.


End file.
